Sunsets in the Making
by rlsefromtheashes
Summary: A collection of random stories about everyone's favorite pairing, Phoenix/Franziska! Chapter 5 is up! Warning: Contains spoilers for the first 4 games.
1. Nightmare

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This takes place after Trials and Tribulations. Franziska has returned to America for a short while to oversee a case of Phoenix's. She is staying in Edgeworth's house (because he's such a good older brother 8D).

Please review! Remember; more reviews = more stories from me!

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His nightmare was disturbingly realistic.

Phoenix had Franziska pinned to the wall, their limbs entangled around the other's back; his fingers were running feverishly through her hair. Soft moans escaped each time they pressed their hungry lips together. They two were drenched in sweat, hot breath moistening their necks as they panted….

"AUUUUUGHHHH!"

Edgeworth's eyes snapped open. He was sitting up in his bed, shaking and breathing hard. Droplets of sweat trickled down his neck and chest. He checked the digital clock on his nightstand.

12:42.

He'd only been asleep for an hour and his brain already insisted on playing late-night tricks on him. He shuddered violently, unable to shake the lingering images from his mind. Then, letting out a heavy sigh, he rubbed his forehead and let his hand drag slowly down his weary face.

_Just a dream…_

As he gradually regained his composure he lay back down and pulled the covers over him once more, closing his eyes and drifting back into peaceful darkness….

Forty seconds later he flew out of bed. _Damn it, I can't sleep like this…._

He pulled on his plush magenta robe and stormed out of his room, heading down the dark hallway to Franziska's room. He raised his hand to rap his knuckles against her door….

But then he stopped.

_I'm losing it._ He closed his eyes and sighed exasperatedly._ Of all the ridiculous things for me to imagine…! There's absolutely no way Franziska's been…_betraying_ me like this…._

He shifted his foot as if to turn and walk away, but then paused.

He just couldn't shake the notion from his mind…!

The door flew open. Edgeworth flicked on the lights. Franziska slowly lifted her head from her pillow and squinted angrily at the pink figure against the blinding white light.

"…Miles? What in heaven's name are you doing in here?"

He ignored her. Eyes narrowed, he quickly scanned the room for any signs of defense attorney. No blue suit lying on the floor, no stray pink tie resting on the chair, no bottles of extra-strong hair gel on the dresser….

"Miles Edgeworth, if you intend to barge into my room in the middle of the night and wake me, you'd best have a good reason unless you plan on receiving a healthy dose of whip-lashing for breakfast."

He blinked and stared at her infuriated expression. Was he thinking into it too deeply? Maybe he'd been wrong all this time. Maybe there was nothing going on between the two. True, for the past few days he couldn't help feeling more than a little suspicious of their late-night meetings in Phoenix's office, but they had always assured him that they were simple work-related exchanges. Perhaps it would be better for him to place a bit more faith in his younger sister. After all, she was only staying in America for a few weeks. It'd suit him better to use that small expanse of time to forge a more affable bond with her, not sabotage their relationship by unjustly accusing her of…well, _that_.

"Er…" He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I apologize; it was nothing at all. Good night, Franziska." Then he turned off the lights and shut the door behind him as he left. _How foolish_, he thought amusingly as he walked back to his room. _I ought to be ashamed of myself._

* * *

In the dark, Franziska heard a quiet shuffling as Phoenix climbed out from behind her bed and slithered underneath the covers beside her.

As he settled in again, he smirked. "Maybe you should stay at _my_ place next time."


	2. Acquired Tastes

"Have you forgotten, Phoenix Wright, that I absolutely loathe this restaurant?"

_Can't blame her_, thought Phoenix as he thumbed through the ridiculously floral menu. _The last time we were here was right after the Hazakura Temple incident, when we all celebrated my victory. I doubt it's been long enough for her to forget how horrible the food is. _Yet Franziska had let him bring her back to Trés Bien nonetheless, reluctant as she was at first. And he was glad for it. It was the only place that the others would have never expected him to come back to, much less accompanied by Franziska von Karma. It meant that they wouldn't get caught red-handed.

Unfortunately, the prices, as he was well aware, were nothing to sneeze at._ It's only once in a while,_ he had reassured himself. _I'm sure my salary can handle it. And I don't she'd appreciate it if I took her to our local burger joint…._

Phoenix peeked over the top of his menu at the woman sitting across from him. She furrowed her brows as she browsed her menu's contents. He could tell that she was trying her hardest to look irritated as possible, and smiled. _It's so cute when she's trying to look all angry._

"Phoenix Wright, do you intend to pay for this meal?" She asked suddenly, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Mm? Uh, yeah. Order whatever you like, though."

"The prices are atrocious. They seem to have inflated since we were last here."

"Yeah, I guess so." Absent-mindedly, he peered at the _Quadruple Delight Lunch Set Fantastique_ at the bottom right corner of his menu and gaped.

Seventy-five dollars and change.

Per person.

Franziska must have noticed his startled expression; she smiled thinly in amusement. "Not to worry; I'm not very hungry. I think I'll just have a small appetizer."

"S-sure…" He gulped, then frowned in embarrassment. _Nice going Phoenix. Way to show her how competent you are._

"_BONJOUR, MES CHERIS!"_

A pungent odor of roses and deodorant suddenly filled Phoenix's nostrils. He looked to his left to see a massive apron-covered belly. His gaze wandered up to discover that the belly belonged to none other than Jean Armstrong: self-proclaimed aroma therapist and frequent disgracer of French cuisine.

"It 'as been a long time, _monsieur _lawyer, _n'est-ce pas?"_

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Armstrong." Phoenix cracked a smile despite the overwhelming perfume and…unpleasant memories of the chef.

"Oh la la! I see you 'ave brought _une belle copine_ with you today!"

Phoenix slouched, partially hiding his face behind his tall menu. "You met Ms. Von Karma the last time we were here, didn't you?" He blushed for no reason.

"Ah, _oui oui_, but z'at vas not like _z'is_, with z'e two of you _alone!" _Armstrong cupped his hands to his cheek and smiled eagerly, eyes sparkling wildly.

Phoenix groaned. "Um, yeah. Anyway, Franziska, are you ready to order?" He looked at her expectantly, desperate to get Armstrong to stop ogling him like that.

"I am, as a matter of fact." She was still smiling smugly at Phoenix. _I don't know what the heck she finds so amusing about seeing me being tormented_, he thought. "I will have the scallop salad, with vinaigrette on the side, please."

"I'll just have the soup and breadsticks, thanks," Phoenix declared. Before handing his menu to Armstrong, Phoenix stole a glance at the price listing for the scallop salad. It was under eleven dollars, surprisingly. He couldn't help quietly sighing in relief at Franziska's parsimonious selection.

"_Merҫi beaucoup,_" Armstrong bowed. "I will be back with z'e food in _un instant!"_

As Armstrong waltzed back to the kitchen, Franziska let out a little chuckle. Phoenix turned to stare at her, dumbfounded. "What is it?"

"You, Phoenix Wright." She rested her elbows on the table daintily.

"Me? What's so funny about me?"

"Even a fool can see that you're trying your hardest to impress me, considering the choice and atmosphere of this restaurant. Yet you allow yourself to be completely overtaken by that feminine chef." Her smile stretched even wider. "I just find that humorous."

Phoenix rubbed his nose, face flushing bright red. "W-well…" _How do I respond to something like that?_

"Don't think too much of it. To be honest…your insecurity…" Her eyes softened just slightly. "…it's very…charming."

He froze. Several seconds passed before her words finally sank into his brain. "You…think it's…huh?" He blinked.

"Charming, Phoenix Wright. I said you were charming."

"…"

By now his face was the color of a ripe cherry. He regretted no longer having the menu in front of him to fiddle with. He settled for twiddling his thumbs on the table.

No more words were exchanged during the awkward minutes between then and Armstrong's return. When at last he arrived at the side of their table, he was carrying an intricate silver tray with two dishes balanced on top.

"_Bon appetite!" _He said, predictably, before he went back to the kitchen.

Phoenix couldn't help but tremble with worry as he raised his first spoonful of soup to his lips. When he slurped a bit, however, he was thoroughly shocked to discover that it didn't taste nearly as disgusting as he'd thought it would. In fact, it was quite edible. He looked at Franziska. She seemed to have come to the same conclusion as he; she was happily dipping small forkfuls of salad into her miniature cup of dressing, eating as if it were any normal salad, despite the slightly shocked expression on her face.

"Do you, um, like it?" Phoenix asked hesitantly.

She swallowed. "I must admit; the food has improved significantly from the monstrosity that I ate the last time we went here." She paused, seeming to have just realized what she just said. "But…it's certainly not one of the best salads I've had in my lifetime." She furrowed her brow again, putting her fork down defiantly and dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

He smirked and let out a small chuckle. This time, it was Phoenix's turn to tease. "Can't you just say that you like it? Why do you have to deny your feelings all the time?"

They truly had switched roles: it took only a second for Franziska's cheeks to turn a lovely shade of crimson. "I…am _not_ denying anything, Phoenix Wright. I am simply stating what I wish to state."

"Same difference." She opened her mouth to object but he cut in before she could. "It's all right, though," he smirked, intentionally echoing her previous statements. "To tell you the truth, the way you don't allow your feelings to get in the way of your sense of pride; I find it kind of…cute."

How she managed to unlatch her whip from her waist and strike him from across the table without disturbing their plates was beyond him. As he sat and stared, gingerly rubbing his swollen cheek, she folded her arms and leaned back, looking extremely displeased.

"Wh-what the heck was that for!?" He sputtered, his voice slightly lisp thanks to his puffy left cheek.

"I don't like hearing that word," she explained simply. "Much less when it is being used to describe me."

_But that's exactly like what you just said to me! _He wanted to yell back, but then he sighed. "All right, all right." He turned his gaze downward, pursing his lips slightly, and swirled his spoon in his bowl of soup. _Honestly, you'd think I would have learned by now. Compliments will get me nowhere with her._ The pair ate in silence for the remainder of the meal. But it wasn't too bad; Phoenix had to admit, despite the sharp stinging sensation in his cheek, this was definitely one of his more successful dates. At least she hadn't stormed out of the restaurant yet.

Later, when they walked out to the small (and empty) parking lot, Franziska turned to him and spoke at last.

"I want you to take me somewhere to eat out again." She declared simply. "Sometime next week."

Phoenix grinned stupidly. "All righty."

"You didn't let me finish. I want you to take me out again, but _not_ to this restaurant, do you hear me?"

He tilted his head and blinked. "Why not?"

After a short silence, she suddenly looked to the side, face honestly troubled and arms crossed uncomfortably.

"I thought about it some more when we were eating." Her voice was tentative, almost fearful.

"That chef…I…I think he might _like you_."

It took the entire evening for Phoenix to convince Franziska that he was straight.

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Apologies for the random-as-heck ending. 8D


	3. Loitering

This particular chapter takes place _before_ the first two chapters, right at the end of 3-5.

Not as lighthearted as the others were.

* * *

There was absolutely no way he still loved her after all these years. It'd be ridiculous if he did.

But after Gumshoe, Miles, Larry, Maya and Pearl left the detention center, she was greatly dismayed to discover that Phoenix had decided to stay behind and continue talking with Iris through the glass.

Simple - and partly hopeful - reasoning told her that the chances of him still loving her were slim at best. They'd been separated for five years until barely a week ago. The juvenile relationship they'd shared in college was a long-lost fantasy, a foolish, thoughtless, on-a-whim arrangement that would have never lasted if it weren't for that damned necklace around his neck. Franziska knew this. Yet she just couldn't ignore the unmistakable look of happiness on his face as he conversed with Iris, recalling their carefree days as a couple. Iris looked equally elated; she was smiling warmly and giggling as if she were speaking with someone she'd known her whole life. No awkward pauses, no misinterpretations or fears of what the other was about to say. They were perfectly comfortable with each other. Franziska suddenly felt a very strong urge to strangle someone with her whip.

She wasn't jealous. It'd be utterly foolish. Her? A renowned, accomplished prosecutor, a _von Karma_, getting upset over the foolish, insignificant whims of a pathetic fool of a defense attorney?

Unthinkable.

"…"

What did Iris see in him, anyway? He was a naïve, egocentric ass who ran around the city on wild goose chases, mindlessly believing in anyone fool enough to knock on his door and request his services.

And he was selfish. Crossing a burning bridge just to see if his friend was on the other side, not even thinking of anyone else…completely ignoring the deadly water beneath…what if he had died? What would she do then?

"…!"

Er…she meant…what would _they_ do then? The whole group, with Miles, Maya, Gumshoe….

Franziska growled in frustration and sighed wearily. It was time she admitted it to herself. However hard (and often) she tried to deny it, for the past year, there was something about Phoenix Wright that her heart couldn't let go of. He had saved her, just as he had saved her younger brother, from the dark abyss that her father had prepared throughout his decades of prosecution, though she hadn't realized it at the time. Phoenix had taught her what it meant to be a prosecutor; hence, he had taught her what it meant to live. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that she was a different person because of him. She felt it every time she walked through the courtroom doors. No longer was there a pure, searing determination to find every suspect convicted. There was no motivation, no benefit, no satisfaction in condemning a person to death. That part of her had died. Now, there was a different yearning in its place. The insatiable desire for truth. He'd given her that desire, implanted it in her, and it was something that she would never let go of for the rest of her life.

But there was still more to learn. She was still a student, eager to absorb as much teachings from him as she could, eager to nurture her newly acquired plant of justness. To her, he was an unending source of wisdom, of virtue, of inspiration. She was shaky on her own; she wanted more guidance. That's why she still needed him. He had to be there to show her the rest of the way, to pave her road of prosecution until she was ready to be on her own.

And it irritated her unendingly that Iris – this girl he had no real connection with, this person who did nothing but put his life in jeopardy, who had spent all these years living a peaceful life in the mountains – had the nerve to show herself again. As if nothing had happened.

Franziska hated Iris. She hated her for her uselessness, for her foolish, baseless affection for Phoenix Wright, and most of all, she hated her because _he_ liked her, despite the way she had used him. What right had Iris to bask in his affection like this? It was unbearable.

Before she knew it, Franziska's cheeks were hot with anger. She scowled as she wiped a tear that had begun to well in her eye. Why was she torturing herself like this? Why was she lingering just to watch Phoenix, _her _Phoenix, enjoy himself with the woman she hated most in the world?

Then it hit her. It hit her like a hard punch to her gut and almost made her double over with guilt. Despite all that he had given her, she had never once returned the favor. Ever since the day she met him, she had done nothing except ridicule and express her hatred for him.

More tears welled up in her eyes as she fully absorbed the hopelessness of her situation. "I'm a fool…" she murmured as she buried her face in her arms.

* * *

After saying goodbye to Iris, Phoenix walked with Franziska to the bus station just a few blocks away from the Detention center. When they arrived, they stood side by side. It was already growing dark, but the sun was still casting pink-orange hues across the sky. Phoenix looked up and sighed happily.

"What a beautiful night." His voice still had a lighthearted edge to it. She could tell that his mind was still with Iris, despite that they were already outside.

She hmphed mockingly, despite how utterly despondent she was feeling. "The pinkish hue in the sky is not naturally occurring, you know," she told him, making sure to not sound like she had just been crying. "It is the result of the city's excessive amounts of pollution. A sign that the city is rotting away, destroying itself from within. I would hardly call it beautiful."

"I know that. But sometimes," his gaze, still resting on the buildings so, so far away, softened to the point where he no longer seemed to be looking at anything in particular. His gentle smile slowly faded away, and a thoughtful look took its place. Franziska thought he looked years older with that calm, contemplative expression. It startled her. "You have to ignore the harshness of reality, the unrelenting truth and logic of this world, and just focus on the beauty the world has to offer. Appreciate the fact that _you're here_, ready to experience it all, good or bad. That's all that matters."

She stared at his profile, which was now a dark shadow against the dim orange of the sky, slowly comprehending his words but not quite believing that he had spoken them at all. "I…" she stammered.

Phoenix suddenly blinked and chuckled nervously. "Sorry. That came out of nowhere, didn't it?" He gripped the back of his neck.

Franziska turned her head away and blushed. They stood silently for a few more seconds before Phoenix spoke up again.

"You know, I've never said anything like that with another person before," he reflected quietly, almost to himself. "Not even with Maya, or Iris."

Franziska's gaze shot back to his face. She looked at him with wide-eyed wonder. "R-really…?"

He smiled again, that same childishly bashful grin she was starting to love. "It's really weird, Franziska. When I'm with people, I usually can't find the right words to express myself, and I end up saying something sarcastic to cover it up. But whenever I'm with you, for some reason….I feel like _you_ can really understand what I'm trying to say, so I feel that I can be honest. I can't really explain it." He paused suddenly and gave yet another nervous laugh. "But now that I think about it, you probably don't understand a word I'm saying right now, huh? I'm such a hypocrite."

"N-no, not at all," was all she could muster. She was absolutely dumbfounded. She felt like she was in a dream. Did he really think that way? Did she matter more to him than she thought she did? Before she could stop herself, her mouth started up and told him, ever so softly, "You're special to me, too."

She quickly covered up her mouth with her hand, but it was too late. He was already looking into her face. But then, to her even greater surprise, he didn't look confused or shocked. Instead, he smiled gently. "Thanks. You have no idea how much that means to me," he said softly.

She hadn't noticed it until that moment, but now that Phoenix was properly facing her, they were standing rather close to one another. Franziska was not used to being this close to someone else. She could see very clearly the deep blue in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lower lip, the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks….

The background behind him began to blur and swim. His eyes were focused, yet unreadable. He leaned in closer until their noses were close to touching. She could feel his faint breath on her lips. She closed her eyes, slowly opening her own mouth, finally ready to satisfy months and months of intense longing….

_CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_

The huge city bus abruptly hissed to a halt along the sidewalk. Franziska opened her eyes and sprang back, blushing profusely and turning to scowl at the driver. Phoenix frowned and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck again. The two of them stepped into the bus without any exchange of words.

When the bus pulled up in front of Phoenix's apartment building, Franziska was surprised to see his windows lit up from the inside. As she continued to look up she could make out the faint silhouette of a dancing Detective Gumshoe with Pearl sitting on his shoulders. They could hear muffled shouts of celebration even from outside.

"Looks like they started the party without us," Phoenix sighed as he led Franziska to his door, fumbling around his pockets for his keys. "That's the last time I give Maya my spare key…." By now the sky was pitch black save for some tiny stars. Franziska stood and stared at them for a moment, appreciating the cool darkness of the night.

"The stars are bright tonight," she half-whispered, almost forgetting that Phoenix was still standing next to her.

He turned and looked up as well. "They are, aren't they?" He snorted quietly. "Guess you were wrong."

"Huh?" She whirled around, giving him a look of incredulity. "What are you talking about?"

"You said the sky was pink because the city was polluted." He smirked at her. "But look. There's no way there's any pollution in the air. Look how clear the stars are."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his illogical statement. "A von Karma is never mistaken, Phoenix Wright," she teased. "Stars can still be seen even in a polluted city."

"Whatever you say," he laughed as wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. Instead of opening the door, however, he stopped. There was a soft yet unmistakable sound of a cork popping from upstairs, followed by a loud _whoop_ that could have only belonged to Larry. "Actually…do you mind if we just stay out here and chat for a while…?"

She smiled back at him. "Not at all." She was pretty sure she could read his thoughts; _Larry and alcohol? I'll pass on this one_. Smirking and moving away from the door, they sat side by side on the stone steps of the building and for the next hour continued to bicker under the stars.

* * *

Urk…I didn't really like how this chapter turned out…it feels like too much stuff happened, and it reads kind of awkwardly…but I figured I'd better put _something_ up before you all bury me under a mountain of tomatoes for the slow updates. xD It just goes to show; I stink at writing "serious" stories.

But please review (I don't care if they're not positive xD)! It lets me know if people are still actually reading my work. ^_^ *promises to make the next chapter better*


	4. Perception

She eventually grew tired of that teasing attitude of his, the way he could never take any of her scolding seriously, the way he constantly avoided her furious gazes whenever he "harmlessly" engaged another woman. That coy, insulting smirk he offered her whenever she tried to confront him, that guilty, side-glance of his eyes when she slapped his face. She had always thought that _she_ was the one who owed him, the one who was obligated to make amends for her past actions, not the other way around. However, after spending those years together, she realized that the Phoenix Wright she had once known had lost a part of himself somewhere along the path they walked together.

But she _didn't_ want him to lost that part of him. She missed the old him, the one who would childishly blush when she wore cute summer dresses, who would gently take her hand and kiss her cheek and honestly ask her how her day was, and who would shower her with gifts on her birthday, perhaps more so out of fear than affection, but gifts nonetheless.

At first she thought the transformation was _her_ doing. She knew all too well that her demeanor wasn't entirely…amenable, and it wasn't inconceivable that some of that ire rubbed off on him during their time together. But soon it was clear that whatever affliction he had wasn't anything like her attitude. His was one of…cockiness, of sheer contempt for his opposition, a bizarre desire for respect in court, attributes that she had long since shed. She couldn't exactly explain it. Perhaps it was her brother's recent absence from the country – that in itself would have surely altered Phoenix's courtroom ethics. Edgeworth _had_ always had the uncanny ability to snap Phoenix back to his senses whenever he needed a good lecture, a skill that Franziska had not quite yet acquired for herself. Whatever the reason, Phoenix Wright was becoming quite intolerable. It pained her beyond reason to see it happen, but she was slowly losing the person who had made her who she was.

She couldn't bring herself to be surprised at his change. No one could remain so flawlessly altruistic for long, after all. Even him. Phoenix didn't seem surprised either, when she showed him the divorce papers.

Weeks passed. Franziska was surviving, but she desperately needed someone. Someone who would take her mind off of him. And then came that case. Her first and final trial against Kristoph Gavin. It had been weeks since she had returned to the states, and to find another German in the courtroom upon her return from Europe had been oddly…comforting.

She'd lost that trial, but she wasn't upset, of course – she'd been taught long ago. And besides, any woman would find it difficult _not_ to be elated if handsome Kristoph Gavin asked her out to dinner as soon as the court proceedings were over.

Kristoph was an entirely new experience for her. He was curt, but kind. Old-fashioned, yet alluring. His unparalleled grace showed no signs of uncertainty, no shyness, no bothersome naivety. The conversations they shared were sophisticated and meaningful. His fascinated attention on her was intense, almost eerie, making her feel as though she was some exquisite rare doll instead of his lover, but she didn't mind. The almost obsessive attention she received reminded her of her old Phoenix. Except Kristoph could speak German.

But as she figured, her relationship with Kristoph didn't last long, either. She managed to brush the blow away with a sigh. At least this time she knew better than to get married.

Some more months passed and Phoenix's badge was gone. She felt she should at last, _at least_, pay him a visit, offer some words of consolation, encouragement, meet his newly acquired daughter whom she'd heard so much about. What she didn't expect when she knocked on his door was for him to take her shoulders and force her lips to his.

She'd shuddered under the kiss, letting old memories seep into her head, then abruptly shoved him away. _Why are you doing this,_ she'd said to him, exasperate tears welling. _Why now, why now…?_

He'd chuckled sadly. He didn't know. But he did know that he needed her as much as she'd missed him. She'd scoffed at the arrogant remark, but only half-heartedly, too relieved to be angry with him, all the while realizing that maybe she could learn to love this new Phoenix, this slipshod, cryptic excuse of a man. She'd smiled, genuinely, and looked in his bright eyes, put one arm around his neck and let the other one idly twist the unkempt strands of hair that drooped down his forehead, and leaned up to press a soft kiss to his prickly cheek. _You fool_.

* * *

Nice, short chapter, yes?

This was greatly inspired by the fourth case in Apollo Justice, when you got to play as Phoenix during his last trial. It was hard not to notice his new attitude in court; he was extremely cocky, and seemed more concerned about implicating Valant as the murderer than actually finding the truth. But that's just my opinion. xD Anyway, I thought it'd be interesting to see some of his old friends' reactions to his new personality.

And the whole Franzy/Kristoph thing...don't read too much into that. I just needed Franziska to get with someone else, and happened to choose Kristoph. xD


	5. Babysitting

What is this? An update from me!? Everyone run!

Ahem. Well, I apologize for the insanely long hiatus I've had from this website. To celebrate my coming back, here's another chapter of Feeniska goodness!

* * *

_I gotta admit_, Apollo thought, feeling a weak blush forming on his cheeks. _She's pretty_.

He wasn't accustomed to seeing Phoenix with another woman. Let alone a very _pretty_ woman. She stood near Phoenix, chatting idly and occasionally glancing at Apollo curiously, which prompted him to smile tentatively back at her. She was fairly short, but her presence was that of a much taller person. He surveyed her appearance. She had silky, pale hair that fell an inch below her shoulders. She wore a black ruffled blouse and a knee-length white skirt. And…she had a black whip clutched in her hand.

At first Apollo thought it was some kind of magician's toy that she'd bought for Trucy, but upon closer inspection he realized that it was the genuine article; not anything like the horrendously large and florid panties he'd helped her recover a few months ago. When he leaned in closer to take a peek Franziska shot him a glare that almost caused him to stumble backwards onto Trucy.

Phoenix laughed as Apollo rubbed his nose self-consciously. "Be nice, Franziska." Moving behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders and purred into her ear. "I like this kid. Don't scare him away just yet." She responded by stomping on the tip of his right foot with her heel, making him jump back and yelp in pain. Her look of satisfaction was almost uncalled for.

"Trust me, Mr. Wright," Apollo said as Phoenix struggled to regain his composure. "If I had any intention of running away, I'd have packed my bags months ago…."

Phoenix chuckled again, brushing away Apollo's remark. "Anyway, we should be heading off now. Try to keep the place in one piece while we're gone, all right?"

"Have fun, Daddy!" Trucy piped in, waving at Franziska despite that they were only a couple of feet away. Franziska waved back and let out a small giggle.

Phoenix smiled and gently kissed the top of Trucy's head, then reached out to ruffle Apollo's. "Thanks, we will. Call if you need anything." He pulled his beat-up cell phone out of his pocket briefly to show them. Then he and Franziska stepped outside and closed the door behind them.

Apollo and Trucy settled back onto the couch as Apollo hopelessly attempted to fix his mussed hair. Trucy faced him and grinned. "I like her."

Apollo paused. "You mean Ms. Von Karma?" He frowned thoughtfully. He was glad to see that Phoenix had acquaintances who weren't related to him or the Gavins in any way, but he still couldn't help thinking that the entire arrangement was a bit…off.

"Daddy said she's an old friend who came to visit," she reminded him. "They haven't seen each other in years, so he's taking her out to see the city." Suddenly, her expression became very coy. She leaned closer into Apollo's confused face, one eyebrow raised. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking…?"

Apollo sighed and gently pushed her away. "If you're going to go into that 'new mommy' business again, I'm not going to hear it. Can't Mr. Wright have female friends without getting romantically involved?"

Trucy shrugged innocently. "Just saying. I mean, they do look pretty cozy together…."

"If by 'cozy' you mean stomping on his bare foot while wearing high heels, then sure."

"Aw, come on, Polly," she giggled. "You know it's just her way of showing love. Just like this!" She reached out and yanked, hard, on Apollo's hair spikes.

"OWW! Trucy, that _hurt_!" He returned the gesture by flicking her forehead. She giggled even more but suddenly paused when she glanced at the coffee table in front of them. "Hey…isn't that Ms. Von Karma's…?"

Apollo blinked and stared at the shiny coiled whip sitting on the table. "Yeah. That's her whip, right? I guess she forgot it here." He instinctively reached to pick it up, but then stopped. He suddenly felt as if he shouldn't touch it without getting Franziska's permission first.

Trucy looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I…think it'd be better if we didn't touch it until they came back."

"Hmph. You're no fun," she chided as she grabbed the whip and uncoiled it, then stood up and brandished it toward the ceiling. "Truciana Jones! Whip-wielding sorceress!"

"Trucy! Put it down! She's gonna realize any minute now that she left it here. She's gonna come back for it!" _Why did Mr. Wright have to show her all those movies…?_ He shuddered when he imagined what Franziska would to do them if she saw them playing with it.

"Wait. I _have_ to try something." She skipped away from the couch and began rummaging through a nearby cabinet as Apollo watched her curiously. After a few moments, she turned and held up what she had been searching for.

"Trucy Wright's famous Magic Panties!" She plopped back down next to Apollo and began unfolding her panties.

Apollo groaned. "Is this really the time for that…?"

Trucy ignored his complaint. "Now, watch carefully…" She held up the whip in front of his face. "A full-sized whip, as you can see," she said in a hushed, dramatic voice. "And a normal pair of panties. Ah, but what would you think if I said that I could fit this entire whip _into_ these panties?"

"Practice your stage performances later. I've seen this trick about a million-"

"Impossible, you say? Well, you just sit back and be amazed!" She suddenly turned away from Apollo, stuffed the whip between the elastic waistband and whirled around again. "Ta-dah! The whip has magically disappeared."

"Great." Apollo sarcastically clapped his hands. "Now take it back out before Ms. Von Karma comes back and discovers it's gone."

"Fine. You're such a spoilsport, Apollo." Trucy pursed her lips as she stuck her hand into the panties, rummaging for the whip. After a few moments her eyes grew wide. "It…it's gone!"

Apollo's heart stopped. "_What!? _No, it can't be gone." He grabbed the panties and shook them frantically, then looked back at Trucy's face. "Please tell me this is a joke."

"I don't understand…!" She lifted the cushions on the couch and looked underneath. "This never happens. The props are usually right there inside the panties…."

"Oh man…" Apollo stood up and searched the entire room for the missing whip, but to no avail. It really had disappeared. _Ok, Apollo,_ he told himself, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead. _Just don't panic. If we can't find the whip, then…then we'll just have to figure something out._

He suddenly glanced curiously at the jar of candy on the dining table, then at Trucy, whose smile told him that she already knew what was on his mind.

* * *

At five o' clock that night Phoenix opened the door of the apartment and led Franziska inside. From what he could hear, Apollo could tell that the two had been sharing a conversation previously.

"…believe you _forgot_ it here," Phoenix was saying, a teasing grin on his face.

Franziska _hmphed_. A very pale blush, which Apollo wouldn't have spotted without his bracelet, filled her cheeks. "Well, you can't expect me to be perfect _all_ of the time," she defended curtly, avoiding Phoenix's amused gaze and searching the room for the leather weapon.

Apollo and Trucy were faced away from the pair, innocently browsing a magazine together, when Franziska addressed them, quietly. "...may I ask what you two have done with my whip?"

Apollo squeezed his eyes shut and hunched his shoulders. Though her voice sounded calm, there was a very sharp edge to it. It sent shivers down his spine. "…u-um…" he stammered. "I-isn't it right there on the coffee table…?"

Franziska looked to where Apollo indicated. There, lying plainly in sight, was some sort of makeshift whip. It was black, and long, and shiny, and might have convinced a four-year old into thinking it was genuine. But Franziska von Karma, whip-wielding prosecutor, immediately discerned it from what it was tried to duplicate.

It was made up of nothing more than a very long piece of black licorice, with a thick knot tied at the end in order to resemble a handle.

For a full minute Franziska and Phoenix only gaped at the pitiful candy replica. Apollo clasped his forehead and groaned. Trucy closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.

Franziska slowly walked over to the "whip" and picked it up, examining it curiously. To Apollo's great surprise, she didn't immediately beat the living daylights out of him or Trucy. In fact, she moved away from the two brunettes and instead advanced toward Phoenix, who was still standing by the door. His wide eyes darted between her face and the candy whip.

"Phoenix Wright." She held the licorice tautly between two hands. "You foolish fool…!" She then proceeded to lash at him wildly with the licorice, causing him to dart out of the way and dash toward the kitchen. Franziska, not missing a beat, immediately followed him, still lashing the whip at him while calling him inappropriate names in German.

"Wow," Apollo, remarked, clearly amused. "She's even a pro at using candy."

Phoenix sent Apollo a sour look, narrowly dodging another licorice attack. "Franziska, why are you punishing _me_?"

"Simply because…" Franziska replied, "you were closer in proximity."

"_No, I wasn't_!"

Apollo couldn't help chuckling as he watched her continue chasing Phoenix around the office. Trucy, on the other hand, slowly started shrinking back, hiding herself behind Apollo.

He noticed. "Trucy? What's going on?"

"I uh," Trucy said sheepishly, glancing to her side, "think I owe Daddy an apology."

Before Apollo could ask, Trucy walked to the shelf and lifted the spare silk hat, revealing Franziska's whip, the _real_ one, underneath. Trucy smiled and laughed weakly at Apollo, who raised his eyebrows in shock. _You crafty little_...

"Should I give it back to her now?" Trucy whispered. Apollo glanced behind him – Phoenix had been backed into a corner and was covering his head with his arms; Franziska was playfully twisting her "whip" in her hands, giving him more verbal warnings.

Apollo grinned. "Nah. Let's wait until she's had her fun with _that _one first." He couldn't help chuckling to himself again. "_Karma," indeed…_


End file.
